


Gather Ye

by MrsHamill



Series: Sandman Crossover Project [12]
Category: The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Multiple Crossovers, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 22:15:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6027357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No time left. Pairing: Qui-Gon/Death</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gather Ye

**Author's Note:**

> From Sithdrgn's prod and my own overly-fertile imagination.

* * *

He lay there on the floor of the reactor core room, unable to help as his padawan fought against a warrior thought to have been eradicated millennia ago. The gaping hole in his chest, the partially destroyed lung and his wounded heart almost completely overwhelmed him with pain. 

The Force seemed very far away.

He closed his eyes and tried to push the pain away, tried to think of some way to help Obi-Wan, but could not think of one. He tried to call the Force to him, to get it to help Obi-Wan, but the Force danced just out of his painful reach. He finally had to face facts; he was going to die here, and his padawan may very well join him in doing so.

"Maybe not."

The voice was feminine and close by. He twisted his head and saw a most remarkable woman crouching at his side. She was tiny, beautiful and strange, with pure white skin and lovely black hair. "Who...?"

"Don't try to talk. I can hear you without you speaking. Save your strength." She smiled sadly at the questions he knew were in his eyes. "I've come for you."

Oh, no. Even though he knew... no... it couldn't be.

"Yeah, I'm afraid so. You've got just a bit longer; you're a lot more stubborn than I gave you credit for."

Of course he was. He was a Jedi master. He was supposed to be stubborn, that's how he managed to be a good diplomat and negotiator.

"Oh, I see. So that's what it's for." Her twinkling eyes showed that she believed none of it, however. "You've passed it on to him, I think. He seems to be holding his own."

He couldn't turn his head sufficiently to see how Obi-Wan was doing and he wanted to, oh, how he wanted to.

"You couldn't help anyway, you know. It would only make you crazy." Her eyes were showing a world of sympathy. "It'll be over soon, and I think I know how it's going to go."

If only she would tell him!

"No, can't do that. The future is always in motion, you know." She looked as though she wanted to touch him, to soothe him, but she didn't. "I'm sorry I have to leave you hanging like this, but even we have to bow to a higher power."

The Force. 

"Well, yes, you could call it that. But I think it's an over-simplification at times. Most sentient beings manage to think up a being, a god, if you would, that is in form like them. Some don't, though, and some never want to."

All the millions of little gods that inhabited the universe.

"That's right. The thing you have to remember is that everyone makes their own heaven, their own hell. You Jedi, you have the Force, you believe you'll be one with it upon your death. You even have a saying for it, I believe."

There is no death, there is the Force.

She smiled, an impish, sweet smile. "Well, not exactly correct, but close enough for government work, I suppose."

A terrible noise, the sound of a lightsaber being slammed against metal, came to his ears, and he winced.

She looked up, over him, frowning in concentration. "I think he's going to be all right, I really do."

If anyone was to know, perhaps she would be best chosen.

"Well, yes, but sometimes that's not even certain. There have been times when I dearly wished I could have seen what was coming." For a few moments, she had a look of such ancient sorrow that it was almost too much to believe. "We can care too, you know. Some of us... well, some of us care a bit too much."

He didn't understand that, but let it slide. The pain was actually lessening, but that made him feel worse. He was almost gone, but he clung to life with a tenaciousness that surprised even him. He knew he was dying, she wouldn't be with him, else, but he had to speak to Obi-Wan, so he held onto life by his weakening fingernails.

A brief rattle by his feet confused him but then the slide of metal against metal made him realize what it was -- and the deadly but instantly recognizable hum of his own lightsaber confirmed his supposition. Obi-Wan must have lost his own 'saber. 

He focused on the girl once more, but to his surprise, she was gone. But it was no matter, for Obi-Wan was suddenly falling and sliding on his knees, right there, sweaty and real, so very real.

Obi-Wan tenderly lifted his head and cradled it on his elbow, and there were tears, yes, those were tears, not sweat, dripping from Obi-Wan's eyes. Tears. Obi-Wan was crying. "Master!"

So much he wanted to say, more than he'd ever said before in his life. He wanted to tell Obi-Wan how precious he was, what a good, no, what a great padawan he'd been.

"It's too late..."

He wanted to tell Obi-Wan how much he cared. How much he'd loved being Obi-Wan Kenobi's master. Being the man to train such a bright star, a good man.

"Obi-Wan... promise me... you will train the boy..."

No one else in the universe would be good enough for such a task, not even himself. It would have to be Obi-Wan, he was the only one who could, the only one so firmly in the Light that no doubt would come of such a thing.

"He... is the... chosen one."

He wanted to tell Obi-Wan he'd always be there for him. Would wait in the Force and watch, would guide Obi-Wan to the best of his ability.

"He... will bring... balance."

He wanted to tell Obi-Wan about his inappropriate feelings, feelings that had been there since he'd noticed his padawan was no longer a boy, no longer a child, but rather a man. A good, decent, strong man. One he'd regret not knowing further.

"Train him..."

Qui-Gon Jinn managed to reach up and touch his padawan's cheek, wiping away a tear, before a sweet, familiar voice softly said, "It's time."


End file.
